


Paint Me A Picture

by LaLainaJ



Series: Make Some Noise [104]
Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: 25DaysofKlaroline, Alternate Universe - Human, Body Paint, College, Dirty Talk, F/M, FigureDrawingModel!Caroline, Flirting, Nude Modeling, Sex, Smut, TA!Klaus, art class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:16:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9101899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLainaJ/pseuds/LaLainaJ
Summary: Klaus, tasked with selecting models for the figure drawing class he's TAing hadn't expected to feel sparks upon meeting the first candidate. Caroline's just glad he seems less annoying than the guy she had to deal with last year. The fact that he's hot is a serious bonus.Flirting leads to dating leads to more and Klaus finds himself a muse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Klaus' project is based on Emma Hack's Wallpaper People series. NSFW if you decide to Google!

**Paint Me A Picture**

**(Prompt: 67 & 27\. klaus has to paint a detailed mural on a nude model from head to toe. caroline is his nude model. after he finishes painting her, caroline has to pose for an exhibition in a gallery. SMUT.)**

Klaus is running late and cursing himself for it. It was not the impression he'd wanted to make.

He'd been sequestered in his tiny bit of assigned studio space all morning agonizing over the first piece of what would eventually become his final project. Print making was _not_ his forte but his final set of work was required to be multidisciplinary and the idea he'd settled on demanded it. The process was just turning out to be _frustrating,_ often leaving him on the verge of a headache, and he'd lost track of time.

He _should_ have set an alarm.

In his defense he was _very_ new to his teacher's assistant post and the professor he'd been hired to assist was of the scatter brained and eccentric variety. She'd handed him a list of names and times (scribbled on a paper stained with coffee and something that looked suspiciously like the filling of a jelly donut) yesterday during their second meeting, told him to pick six of them for her figure drawing class. Her only instruction was that little variety was necessary and to watch out for people 'attempting to get their rocks off in her classroom.'

She'd then wandered into her office, shut the door, and blasted some sort of instrumental psychedelic folk music that Klaus had needed to make a quick escape from in order to avoid gouging out his eardrums.

He'd been left to puzzle out the context of her instruction though it hadn't been _that_ hard. He'd taken Professor LaRue's class in his first year, remembers with some shame the initial awkwardness he'd felt at watching an attractive woman, slightly older but no more than thirty, drop her robe and recline on an armchair in the middle of the room. He'd clenched his teeth together to avoid making any of the awkward titters that were heard throughout the room, ducked his head to avoid the professor's unimpressed gaze as she'd sought out the laughers and those who'd begun to whisper excitedly.

Her voice had rung out, just after the loud click of a stopwatch, cool and mocking, "You have ten minutes and your work _will_ be graded."

Klaus remembers getting over feeling odd about the model's nudity _very_ quickly. His pencil had flown over the page, trying to churn out something not completely horrid during each of the ten minute intervals, eyes snapping to the center of the room with each new pose, his thoughts turning decidedly clinical as he considered shading and form.

He'd been exhausted by the end of the hour, his shirt damp and sticking to him as he'd rolled up and labeled his sketches. It was by design, he'd later realized, a way to nip any immaturity in the bud and force them to focus on the task.

Professor LaRue had looked grimly satisfied at the tired line of students shuffling out of the room. The next drawing session had lacked the same initial flurry of tension and it was far less high pressure. That model had only done two poses and they'd been told to focus on drawing a smaller section of the body, to really make a study of the relation of muscle and bone.

By the end of the semester it hadn't been odd at all, each new model presenting an interesting challenge requiring him consider the human body differently and see its function as well as its form.

And now it was his duty to pick the people who would hopefully do the same for a group of forty or so introductory students.

Except he was _late_ and not nearly as prepared as he would have liked to have been.

He dodges people on his way up the stairs, grits his teeth to avoid pointing out that _up_ one side and _down_ the other was the logical way to navigate a crowded staircase and that not loitering in the middle was only _polite_. Klaus is out of breathe by the time he turns the corner into the quiet hallway of the art building where Professor LaRue's office and Klaus' adjoining space (barely more than a closet, really) was located.

It's deserted save for a blonde sitting on the floor, long legs stretched out across the threadbare carpet and engrossed in a thick text.

Ah, she must be his first appointment. If only he could recall her name.

Klaus clears his throat as he approaches and she glances up, folding down the corner of her page, "Are you Klaus?" she asks. "Professor LaRue's T.A.?"

"I am. Sorry I'm late."

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, "Only five minutes so I'm not _that_ pissed. I just hope you're better than the guy I had to deal with last year. He changed my slots constantly and I have a life, you know? This is basically an easy way for me to knock off work study hours but I don't like my schedule being messed with."

Klaus blinks down at her as he processes the flood of information, having a hard time focusing on it because he finds he quite likes the way her face shifts, the obvious play of emotion over her lovely features. She lifts a brow as his silence drags on and Klaus realizes that he has a job to do and considering the mix of pigments he'd need to use to capture her skin tone, the fading remnants of a tan and the spray of freckles across the nose, is not currently it. He shakes himself and offers her his hand. She takes it and lets him pull her to her feet, tucking her book under her arm and bending to retrieve her back pack.

He attempts to get back on track, "You've done this before, then?"

"Yup! Last year. For Josephine's classes and Professor Q's."

"Josephine?" Klaus asks, fishing his keys out of his pocket. He doesn't think he's ever heard anyone refer to her that way. She wasn't exactly _warm_.

"She likes to take the models out for drinks at the end of each semester. Let me tell you that's a lady who likes her gin. I can't hold mine half as well. Life goals, I guess."

Klaus smiles, opening the door and gesturing for her to go in, "I can see that, actually."

The girl's evidently quick witted, her reply snappy, "Me being a sloppy drunk? Or Professor LaRue drinking me under the table?"

"I'm sure you'd be delightful but I'd meant the latter."

She tips her head to the side and studies him, white teeth nibbling on her glossy lower lip as she considers, "You're definitely more charming than the last guy, I'll give you that."

This is not how he'd anticipated this meeting going but Klaus can't say he's at all upset about it. He pulls out the spare chair and circles his small desk and sits, "Thank you, sweetheart. You'll find I'm quite decisive too so I doubt the scheduling will trouble you. Barring, of course, some sort of emergency."

"I won't hold you personally responsible for the flakiness of others, don't worry. I've observed you artist types enough to know it comes with the territory."

Klaus knows he should probably be offended but, knowing some of his peers, he has to admit that she has a point. He glances down at his desk, pulls the piece of paper with the scant meeting info he'd been given towards him in what he hopes is a discrete manner.

Caroline. Her name is Caroline.

"Can I assume that you are not an 'artist type?'"

She snorts, hefts her book up so he can read 'Organic Chemistry' emblazoned across the front. "Nope, not at all. Though I might be being a teeny bit harsh. My roomie is a music student and he's mostly normal. Lurking around the art buildings I've just come across some real weirdos. There was a guy early on who asked me to donate certain bodily fluids that he was planning on mixing with paint for what he claimed was a series of works meant to illuminate the intersection of sex and art. I was dubious and declined."

Klaus is fairly certain he knows just who she'd talking about, remembers watching the installation of the pieces with some distaste last year. Not everyone was as discerning as Caroline seemed to be, he supposed and the pieces had been lurid and oddly pigmented.

"I'm surprised you didn't run away screaming," Klaus says.

"I'm pretty tough," she jokes. "My mom's a sheriff so I am well stocked on pepper spray and self defense moves. Plus, like I said, easy way to scratch off some work study time. I can pretty much take a mental vacation, just stand around and do some quality planning."

"And you had no trouble with the physical demands? Holding the poses and such?"

Again she shakes her head, "Nope, not at all. Dance led to cheerleading and now I do yoga. I kind of hate it but it's supposed to be relaxing so I keep trying."

His lips twitch in amusement, "Forgive me but if you have to _try_ to relax you might be doing it wrong."

Her eyes narrow but her pout is playful, "Really into yoga, are you?"

"Never tried it. I don't think I'm meant to bend that way."

The curl of her lips is a bit naughty if Klaus isn't mistaken. She runs her eyes over him speculatively, "Too bad. _Bending_ had its perks."

"Perhaps you'll show me some time," Klaus shoots back, returning her once over with an appreciative one of his own. She really was a pretty thing, and he suspected his hands would itch for a pencil during the sessions she was the focal point of, that the urge to capture her curves and angles on canvas would be insistent.

That he'd put great, explicitly detailed, thought into doing it with his hands and mouth afterwards, once he was alone and locked in his private flat.

Her smile widens, turning more mischievous than sensual, "Well, since it seems like I got the job I'm sure you'll see _just_ fine in class."

"And if I asked for a more… _personal_ demonstration?" Klaus asks, curious and attempting to hide a spark of hopefulness.

Caroline stands, hefting her bag over her shoulder, a look on her face that Klaus can only describe as challenging, "We'll see. But you'll never know until you ask, will you?"

She stands and whirls before he can say anything, blonde curls flying about her shoulders. She sets her hand on the doorknob and turns to look at him, "Last year there was a group meeting for the models where we went over what's needed, who's gonna do which class, all that boring stuff. Send me a text when you set it up, okay? Maybe you and I can get a drink after? Just so I can decide how _personal_ I want to get."

Klaus grins and nods, feeling far more pleased with the progression of his day, "I can do that."

He'll also do his level best to convince her that she wants to get _very_ personal, wonders if they happen to have any mutual acquaintances so he can do a little digging into her likes and dislikes. It's a small school, surely there's _some_ overlap? If nothing else he can attempt to get Professor LaRue on one of her excessively dreamy days, see if he can subtly poke and glean anything. And if neither strategy proves fruitful he'll just have to rely on charm. Luckily she seems to think he has it.

Caroline wiggles her fingers in a gesture of farewell, slipping out the door and closing it softly behind her. Klaus opens the drawer, digs for a fresh pad of paper and writes Caroline's name and contact details on it.

Solely in the name of organization and efficiency, of course.

* * *

"Hey," Caroline says, slipping into the opposite side of the booth from Klaus the Hot T.A. "Sorry that took me forever. Shaking off that guy who seemed to think everyone needed to know how much he can lift took longer than anticipated. He was so not susceptible to my scathing witticisms."

Klaus takes a sip of his drink while she shrugs out of her denim jacket, "His loss, love. _I_ find your witticisms delightful."

She shoots him a look of mock exasperation (because she hadn't been kidding about finding him charming) but his eyes are too busy taking in the skin she's revealed to return _or_ register it.

There's a reason she'd kept the jacket on for the duration of the meeting they'd just left. She'd wanted the wow factor that came with revealing this dress for his eyes only.

She'd liked the look of Klaus right from the beginning, his hair mussed and a general harried air clinging to him. He'd recovered quickly, had turned butter smooth and amusing as soon as he'd pulled her to her feet. She'd assumed that he wasn't the type to lose control easily – something she could definitely relate to – and that pushing him to lose it could be _very_ fun.

He'd seemed to return her admiration, all lingering eyes and obvious flirtation. Caroline had decided to roll with it, see where it took her. She hadn't been in the market for a boyfriend when she'd woken up that day but finding someone she clicked with wouldn't be the _worst_ thing. Even if it was just physical and temporary she was a big fan of sex as an easy form of stress relief during finals time. If the charge she'd thought buzzed between them turned out to be a fluke, or his personality was _awful_ , that would be fine too. She was graduating in less than nine months so she had relatively minimal time where she'd have to make an effort to avoid him on the off chance that taking a risk blew up in her face.

The situation, in Caroline's opinion, was full of nothing but upsides. Klaus' crisp accent, dimples and the interesting callouses on his hands certainly sweetened the deal.

She waits for him to meet her eyes again, relishes the brief flash of embarrassment that crosses his face when her realizes how super unsubtly he'd been checking her out. She makes a circular gesture in front of her chest, smirking when his eyes remain stubbornly fixed on her face, "This is just a preview. You'll get a good look at the girls soon enough, right?"

He surprises her, answering her joke with sincerity, "You're an exceptionally beautiful woman, Caroline. I don't need to see you naked to know that."

Caroline feels herself _actually_ blushing. It's been a criminally long time since she's received a compliment that didn't contain some variation of 'hot.' Klaus saves her from replying, tipping his head in the direction of the bar, "Can I get you a drink?"

She tosses her hair over her shoulder and smiles at him, "Just a coke. I have an early lab tomorrow and I'm still trying to suss out my lab partner's strengths. Can't be fuzzy, you know?"

He inclines his head, doesn't attempt to push her into something alcoholic like a lot of not so nice guys she's come across might have. Klaus climbs to his feet, "Did you eat dinner? The food here is surprisingly excellent."

Caroline's well aware. Her apartment is around the corner and she and Bonnie routinely make late night dessert runs during get-togethers. "I did. But if you wanted to split some chocolate cream pie I wouldn't object."

Klaus lets her eat most of the pie when he returns with it, only dipping his fork in once or twice. Caroline takes it as a sign that her instincts about him were spot on.

* * *

Caroline's first modelling session falls in the third week of the class and Klaus has to admit he's got some nerves brewing. She's set to arrive any minute and he's supposed to be going over what's required of her more in depth when she does. He's done it for the previous two models and had no issues.

Caroline's different.

They've seen each other a few times a week since they'd first become acquainted, have gotten coffee or lunch as their schedules allowed and shared tables at the library on nights they were both buried in coursework. He'd even garnered an invite to a party she'd thrown last weekend, had met a few of her friends and enjoyed watching her struggle to lose graciously when his aim had been superior to hers over a game of beer pong.

Losing, Klaus had gathered, was not something Caroline did often. They've kept things light and friendly and so far always public. That hasn't stopped Klaus from thinking about her in private.

He's been drawing her. Nothing lascivious, but he's fascinated by the slope of her shoulder, the dip of her clavicle. It's been hindering his progress with his final project and he's begun to wonder what Caroline would say if he broached the subject of her acting as his model.

He's hesitant for several reasons. First, the less than savory experience she'd had with that bloke who'd attempted to call smearing canvases with blood and spit and semen _art_. Second is the fact that his project would involve him spending copious amounts of time with Caroline while she was naked and he's not entirely certain that his self-control is up to the task. Finally, however did one even _begin_ to ask a woman if she'd mind if he painted her naked body and photographed it?

There was context, sure. It was still an awfully large and possibly invasive request. There was every possibility that she would say no, write him off as a pervert, and never speak to him again. Something Klaus wanted to avoid, having grown fond of her sharp tongue and biting sense of humor.

He hears the door to the small theatre they use for these sessions creep open, the smack-smack of flip flops against feet a second later. He turns to see Caroline bouncing down the steps, "Guess who just aced their first test of the semester? This girl!" she crows, beaming with happiness.

Klaus smiles back, mostly because he's unable _not_ to with the glee radiating from her. "Good job, sweetheart."

"Why thank you!" She dips a faint curtsey at the bottom of the steps, before she hops up onto the raised platform he's on. She twirls around, eyes scanning the room. "Yep, this is exactly like I remember it. Less scary this time, so that's a plus."

"Scary?" Klaus questions. She'd seemed so blasé about the process whenever they've spoken of it, this is the first he's heard her sound less than confident.

Caroline's head whips to face him, expression incredulous, "Um, being naked in front of strangers is the stuff of people's nightmares for a _reason_ , Klaus. My first time I literally spent three hours the night before shaving every nook and cranny imaginable and coating myself in coconut oil."

The mental image of Caroline, skin bare and gleaming, is not one that Klaus had needed but he's sure it'll pop up again to distract him later. He clears his throat and peels his eyes away from her, "You've never let on that it bothered you, love."

"I'm a firm believer in fake it till you make it," Caroline tells him. "Besides, you kind of get used to it? I half expected some idiot from one of the classes to come and try to perv on me in somewhere on campus but no one's ever approached me in public and mentioned this little side job of mine."

"There are _very_ strict rules about that," Klaus says, a hint of anger at the idea that someone might _try_ bleeding in. "It's an automatic failure of this class. And considering that it's a required credit that can be a serious hindrance to progress in the program. You'll let me know if you have trouble with _anyone_."

"Before or after I kick them in the balls?"

He's startled out of his darker thoughts, finds a laugh spilling from him. She's perfectly serious and, in all honestly, Klaus would bet on Caroline against most other people. She's very smart, with a ruthless streak that suggests that tangling with her is a very bad idea.

Klaus would be lying if he claimed not to find it arousing.

The door creaks open again, admitting a diminutive girl with bright purple hair. She hesitates at the top of the step, eyes flitting between him and Caroline, clearly noting the very small space between them. "I could come back?" she offers, glancing back at the door.

Regretfully, Klaus steps away from Caroline, retrieving the folder he'd set on a nearby stool. "It's fine," he calls, waving her in. "We're just prepping for the session. Caroline here will be our model."

Caroline waves, open and friendly, and the girl ventures further into the room, selecting an easel near the middle and beginning to unpack her supplies. "How do you want me?" Caroline asks, low voiced and a touch throaty, favoring him with a look that nearly makes his breath catch.

"You're going to make it very hard for me to be professional here, aren't you?" Klaus asks, low enough not to be heard and mostly resigned.

He'd already devised a list of unsexy things he could think of in hopes of preventing any embarrassing visible reactions that might occur.

Caroline's lips curl, her eyes lighting up, looking at him in manner that Klaus instinctively knows is dangerous. "Maybe. You still interested in _personal_ demonstrations?"

Klaus doesn't even have to think about it, the yes spilling out before he's totally processed the implications. Did she really mean….

"Your place or mine?" Caroline asks, sidling up to him and taking the folder from his stilled hands. She presses her side along his, speaking quietly and flipping through the pages with the poses they're doing the class. "I'm done class at 3 and you don't have anything after this, right?"

She was offering _exactly_ what he'd thought and there's no way he's not going to take her up on it.

"Mine," Klaus grits out. "I'll be there when you're done class."

He doesn't have a roommate and he's not willing to chance Caroline's being around. He'll not have her stifling herself, has thought of her spread out and writhing in his bed often and he wants every reaction he teases out of her to be genuine and unthinking.

The only issue will be getting out of this class without thinking about it _more_. Somehow Klaus knew thinking of football statistics and root canals would be insufficiently dampening when he knew that he was mere hours from making his fantasies a reality.

He takes a side long glance at Caroline, takes in the cat in cream smile on her face. It hits him that she'd _planned_ this, wanted to _torture_ him a little bit.

Klaus would just have to come up with a fitting revenge.

* * *

She's barely dropped her hand from the wood, the sound of her knock still echoing down the hall when the door to Klaus apartment is yanked open. "Been expecting me?" she asks, raising a brow and taking him in as she crosses the threshold. His curls are a little wild, like he's been running his hands through them, and there's paint flecked all over him, reds and purples staining his shirt and jeans and even speckling his bare feet.

It's a _good_ look.

Klaus is watching her hungrily as he shuts and locks the door, and she likes it. "You're a cruel woman, Caroline Forbes."

She grins, and bounces on her toes, about to shoot back something sassy about how that's obviously not a deal breaker for him, when Klaus steps into her and her breath stutters out in a whoosh at the feel of the lean heat of him, the tension in his frame evident. He backs her into the wall, one hand cradling the back of her head as he pushes her into it.

Maybe she'd taunted him a little _too_ much.

He wraps his hand in her ponytail and Caroline lets him tilt her head back, presses her lips together to hold in a sigh as he drops a lingering kiss under her jaw. "Did you have fun today, Caroline?"

She lifts a shoulder in a shrug that has the added benefit of allowing Klaus to smooth the strap of her tank away, baring more skin for his exploring lips and teeth. "Kinda," she manages, eyes fluttering shut as his tongue traces her collarbone. She reaches for him, hands stroking down his sides before slipping under his shirt to find bare skin.

Klaus had been forced to circle the room during class but she'd caught his eyes whenever possible, enjoyed watching the clench of his jaw grow tighter and tighter as the hour dragged on and the heat between them continued to sizzle. It had been a nice distraction from the strain in her muscles at having to keep still for so long. _She'd_ been turned on but her visible physical reactions could have been chalked up to the chill in the room though Klaus knew the truth. Her pose had been a seated one, legs pressed together and turned to the side as she held one arm above her head, hand tangled in her hair and back arched at an angle that quickly became uncomfy. When he'd approached her at the end to hand her a robe to cover herself she'd let her legs slip open, confident his body would shield her from view and from his audible gulp he'd gotten an eyeful at the slickened skin of her inner thighs.

Caroline knew for a fact that she had no 'paint me like one of your French girls' kink. She'd gotten through multiple sessions last year with zero reaction, had left vaguely achy wanting nothing more than a bubble bath and some Ben and Jerry's. This latest class hadn't been anything different, the sea of students that blended together, Professor LaRue murmuring comments, the scratch of pencils on paper all familiar.

Klaus was the only new variable so it stood to reason that she should explore her reaction with him, right?

One of his hands palms her breast, thumb sweeping slow circles around her nipple. She hadn't bothered to put her bra back on post-nude modelling session and he murmurs appreciatively as it hardens under his touch. Caroline holds back a whine at the too light pressure. She bends her arm at the elbow, reluctantly giving up her hand's exploration of Klaus' torso. He helps her peel her shirt down to her waist. He fumbles with the elastic holding her hair up, tugs it out and tosses it aside impatiently, pulling back to look as her hair tumbles around her shoulders. Her breathing is rapid, chest rising and falling with the force of it and he licks his lips slowly as he studies the movements of her breasts. "I've been thinking about this for weeks," he rasps, stroking over her ribs.

Did he really think she _hadn't_? "Me too."

His eyes gleam, head bending and he traces the slope of her breast delicately with his mouth, holding her steady when she tries to arch and get more. "Really? And what did _you_ think of, Caroline?"

She huffs out a laugh, "Do you want my dirty thoughts chronologically? Or should I try to alphabetize them for you?"

"Start with the first."

She moans when he pulls her nipple into his mouth, grips his hair at the faint hint of his teeth, "I thought about climbing across that tiny desk in your office. You seemed to like my legs. I wondered what you'd have done if I'd have had the ovaries to wiggle out of my shorts and spread them for you."

He curses softly, hand dropping to caress the length of her leg, lifting her skirt as he moves up. He traces the lacy band of her underwear and Caroline's thighs part in encouragement, "I'd have teased you with my fingers, and licked your clit until everyone in that hall heard you beg for me. What was next, love?"

"The bar. Oh…" he strokes over covered folds, pressing near her clit and Caroline loses her train of thought, going up on her tiptoes as his fingers slip underneath the lace.

"Mmm," he hums against her skin, standing taller to nuzzle her throat. "Did I touch you under the table, get you wet for me, just like this while you tried not to squirm too noticeably?"

Caroline claws at his shoulders as he slips a finger inside of her. Klaus withdraws quickly and she can't help the noise of complaint that she makes. It dies in her throat when he finds her clit, his soaked fingers rubbing experimentally. He's a quick study, manages to find the pattern that makes her hips rock against him, soft sighs and pleas falling from her lips. Her eyes drift shut, that familiar ache beginning to build.

Until Klaus stops, fingers pressed against her but resisting her insistent motions. She peels her eyes open and glares at him accusingly, sucks in a breath at finding his eyes dark and boring into hers, lips reddened like he's been biting them. "Was that your fantasy, Caroline? Getting off with my fingers buried inside of you, secretly, no one the wiser?"

She swallows hard, the hoarseness of his question sending another flutter of arousal through her. Her voice is no steadier, "You fucked me in the bathroom, actually. Jammed the door shut and bent me over the sink."

Klaus' control snapping is every bit as satisfying as she'd imagined.

A low sound rumbles from deep in his chest and she's cold as he pulls away from her, but only for a second. He tears his shirt over his head before grabbing her waist, yanking her into him and slanting his mouth over hers. The kiss is frantic, greedy and wet, his licks into her mouth and moans as he tastes her, stumbling back as his hands pull at the rest of her clothes.

Caroline's not much of a help, mapping the planes of his torso and trying to discover every spot that makes him twitch. The bump into something solid and Caroline tears her mouth away from his in confusion. "Turn around," Klaus grits out. "We'll do slow in my bed later. I'd be happy to have you writhing on my tongue at some point afterwards. Before even, if you'd like. But for right now I need you and I need a condom."

Caroline nods eagerly. She is so totally onboard, her body clenching down in anticipation of the fullness she's been craving since he'd pressed her against the wall. She turns and braces her hands on the table, arching her back impatiently when she hears him fumbling with his pants. His hands rest on her hips as she hears the clang of his belt hitting the floor and Caroline leans forward as she feels his cock prod at her entrance. She's plenty ready for him but he teases her, one hand slipping down her belly to toy with her clit once more. "Klaus," she groans, her displeasure with the lack of the promised _fucking_ currently happening evident. "I want…"

He eases in, hissing out a curse as she clamps down around his length. She grabs his wrist, urging him to keep touching her before she brings her own up to pull at her nipple, pressing back so he sinks in deeper. "Fuck, Caroline. You're…"

He bites down on her shoulder as he withdraws and Caroline forgets the sting as he thrusts into her, faster and rougher and _so much_ better than before.

It's wild and messy in the best ways after that, Caroline's sure there will be bruises where her thighs bang into the table but she can't care with the way Klaus begins to talk, roughly voiced praises for how good she feels, sweetly lewd promises about all the things he wants to do to her. They move together like they've done this before, Klaus reading what works so well that Caroline's eyes are soon rolling back into her head as her knees weaken. A tiny adjustment of the angle has his cock scraping against a perfect spot inside of her, vision going hazy as she begins to come in long waves. She collapses onto the table as she shudders through it, Klaus hot at her back, hips jerking erratically against her as he comes with a guttural grunt of her name.

He's not idle for long, lips smoothing kisses down the length of her spine, his hands warm and reverent on her skin. She hears him discard the condom, turns when he brushes a kiss over her cheek. "I think you said something about a bed?" she asks.

As good as round one had been she's going to consider it a warm up. She'd only gotten through two fantasies. She has many, many more.

Klaus lips still and she thinks she can feel his body react, a slight jerk of his cock coming back to life against her ass, a stiffening of the arms that are caging her in. "I did," he murmurs.

Caroline pushes herself to her feet, reaching back to tangle her fingers with his, "Good. I get to be on top this time and the bed's gonna be comfiest on my knees."

His swallow is harsh and audible, his grip on her hand turning urgent.

Caroline's not surprised. She really hadn't thought he'd object.

* * *

"What are those? Caroline asks him, her eyes on the bulletin board across the room. She's surprised him with a makeshift picnic and they're sprawled on the floor of his studio picking at the last of it. They've been together for close to a month now, have progressed to proper dates and casual companionable moments like these.

Klaus likes them every bit as much as he likes the nights she spends at his flat and he suspects Caroline does too.

He follows her gaze, unable to help the faint noise of frustration when he realizes what she's talking about. "Wallpaper. Sort of, anyway."

"I didn't know you did anything like that," Caroline replies, appearing puzzled.

"I don't. Not often. It's for my final project." She waits for him to continue, scraping her plastic spoon against the bottom of her pudding cup determinedly. "My idea is…" he gropes for a way to describe it before he decides that it's easier to _show_ her. He unfolds himself from the floor, retrieving a sketchbook before rejoining her. "If I had my way I would just paint a couple of canvases and be done with it but we're _apparently_ required to show that our exorbitant tuition fees have allowed us to learn an abundance of things."

Her lips twitch as she flips open the cover her eyes running over the mock ups he'd done. Her brows rise, "So you want to paint people?"

"So they blend into the wallpaper I've designed, yes. And then photograph the results for my exhibit at the end of the year." He waits for her reaction, watching her expression carefully. He's not really spoken to anyone about this, save for his advisor, and he's both anxious and curious to see what Caroline thinks of his concept.

She pages through several more drawings, studying the details avidly, before glancing back at him. "I mean, I know we've covered that I'm an art philistine but I think this is really cool, Klaus. I can't wait to see it."

The breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding whooshes out and Caroline smiles softly though she doesn't comment. "Just don't go falling in love with another art model type, okay? It'll make me feel cheap."

He starts a little at the word _love_ , idly wonders if he should be bothered by it while she begins to tidy up. Klaus has never been one for deep connections, is picky about the people he lets in. It's been surprisingly easy with Caroline and he doesn't see that changing. He's not in love with her yet but the seeds are there.

And her joking comment brings him nicely to something that's been nagging at him, "Or," he says, feigning casualness. "You could pose for me."

She stills, eyes widening slightly in surprise. Klaus rushes to explain, "No pressure, sweetheart. None at all. But I think you'd be good at it, first of all. You're easily the best of the models for the figure drawing classes. Additionally, I've spent and inordinate amount of time thinking about your body recently and I think I have the perfect sets and poses worked out. That's very selfish, I know but I think you realized that about me, have you not?"

Caroline appears faintly amused, "That you're selfish or that you spend a lot of time mentally perving on me?"

Klaus winces, recognizing that he perhaps could have worded that better. Caroline giggles before he can attempt to elaborate, "Because if it's the second one I'd say you're entitled. I mentally _perv_ on you all the time."

Relieved (and more than a little flattered) Klaus leans over, brushes his lips across hers as he rests his hand on her (unfortunately denim covered) thigh. "Really?" he purrs suggestively, "Tell me more?"

She deepens the kiss, biting down on his lower lip teasingly before pulling away, "Mmm," she hums, "Just this morning in my shower. Thankfully Enzo didn't come home last night so I took a loooonnng one. Whoever invented waterproof vibrators was a _genius_."

He doesn't even think before lunging for her, the taunt sending a heated rush of interest through him. He follows her down as he kisses her frantically, "It's criminal that you've not brought that over to my place, love," he growls when he tears his mouth away, setting his lips to her rapid pulse point. "After all, it's not like there's anyone to disturb."

She hitches her leg over his hip, back arching as she grinds up against him, "Noted," she gasps. "This weekend? Maybe after you get things set up for your final project? We'll have to hang out in the shower to get all the paint off anyway, so…"

Klaus pulls back to look at her, shock and pleasure flooding him, "Does that mean you'll do it?"

She settles back to meet his eyes, "Yeah, I think so? Most of your sketches are in profile, right? So no one will really know it's me. Plus, I'll be covered in paint. And it's not like you haven't seen me naked before."

"Very true. I plan to continue seeing you naked often, actually."

Unfortunately, he can't right now, even if the door to his studio is locked. Caroline's got class in half an hour and if they take of their clothes the likelihood she'll miss it is quite high. It'll make her fretful later on, she'll spend the evening rereading her chapter notes, pouring over the set from the lecture she'll have borrowed from one of her classmates.

She's _very_ serious about maintaining her near flawless GPA. Klaus respects that, understands why it's important to her even if he worries a bit. He'd rather she stay calm and confident, hates the little wrinkle of unhappiness that forms between her brows when she gets anxious.

 _Sex_ is out, at least for now. That doesn't mean he doesn't have options. Klaus shifts off of her, props himself up on his elbow and flicks open the button of her jeans. Caroling sucks in a deep breath, conveniently making it easier for Klaus to slip his hand into the tight denim.

He can easily get her off at least once before she has to go. Show his gratitude for her assistance _and_ do his part in keeping Caroline happy and relaxed.

* * *

In the end things with his project hadn't moved all _that_ quickly. It had taken Klaus a couple weeks to get everything together. He had to actually have his prints made and they'd had some trial and error where the whole hanging wallpaper thing was concerned.

Caroline's keen eye for detail had totally saved the day and the fun they'd had in the shower had easily smoothed over the bumps that had cropped up during their first attempt at a team project.

They were both stubborn and used to getting their own way. Clashes were inevitable but Caroline thought they had the tools to work through them for the most part. Angry sex followed by makeup sex followed by post coital cuddling and joking about the arguments that had led to all the sex was a delightful reconciliation process.

Fingers crossed that it served them just as well in the future especially considering that they had six more adventures in wallpaper, followed by some painting in an attempt to save Klaus' security deposit, in their future.

She's standing in the corner of the room they'd papered shifting nervously from foot to foot, telling herself that it's silly to be nervous. She'd spent a lot of time naked in Klaus' presence and he'd had zero complaints. Why did the thought of him getting up close and personal with every inch of her skin freak her out _now_?

It's just… _that_ had always been sexual. Grasping hands and greedy mouths, sighs and moans and _need_. This was different, kind of clinical.

Klaus is busy setting up the drop cloth but he immediately senses her nerves when he glances up and takes in her fidgeting. He stands slowly, "Alright, love? Second thoughts?"

She blows out a breath and squares her shoulders. Time to see if fake it till you make it would save her ass once more. She lifts a hand and smooths her hair, checking to see that it's still neatly pinned up before she shakes her head slightly, "Nope!" she chirps, "I _want_ to do this."

Klaus is clearly not entirely fooled by her forced cheerfulness and attempts to reassure her, "Because it's fine if you _are_ having them, Caroline.

She grabs his hand and squeezes, "I know. I do want to do this. I guess I'm just a little freaked out? You clearly like having sex with me but what if this changes that? There are moles and freckles and a couple of stretch marks and some weird scars that are going to be _super_ in your face."

Klaus eyes widen as understanding dawns, incredulity and maybe a tiny bit of offense visible. "Caroline, trust me. None of those things are going to change my mind about you. It's just not possible."

"How do you know?" she asks, hoping it doesn't come out _too_ needy.

Klaus remains perfectly reasonable, not a second of hesitation in his answer, "Do you honestly think I'm _only_ interested in your body at this point? You spent two days planted on my couch with a migraine and no interest in sex last week because you claimed Enzo is incapable of walking softly. Would I have allowed that if I didn't enjoy _you_?'

He'd been ridiculously sweet, actually. Creeping around his own darkened apartment and trying to ply her with tea. Would he have done that if his feelings were so shallow? Intellectually Caroline knew the answer.

She nods, offers a more genuine smile. "I _have_ been told I am a terrible patient so I suppose you must be really into me to endure it."

Klaus fiddles with the neckline of her robe, "I would agree with that assessment," he says seriously, dodging her attempts to poke him in retribution. "I will, of course, require the stories behind your 'weird' scars."

"Secret kink?" Caroline asks pointedly. "Not sure how I feel about that. The scars aren't that _that_ weird. I have a circle on my knee from when Elena gouged me with her nail during a cheerleading lift. The usual bike accidents and falls."

His smile is soft, fingertip tracing her collarbone, "Scars? Not something that turns me on. But if wanting to know more about you classifies as a kink, well…"

"Cheesy," she mutters, but she has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot.

She kinda liked cheesy, okay? And when Klaus did it he did it _well_.

* * *

He'd known as soon as the words were out of her mouth that she was completely mistaken. Half an hour into the business of painting Klaus has moved his classification Caroline's idea that this would make him stop wanting her from ridiculous to _insane_. He'd started at her face, knowing he could more easily cover any drips or mistakes if he worked his way down.

Caroline's nose had wrinkled at the first touch of the brush to a spot near her eyebrow, and she'd pushed him away, turning her head to the side. She'd shaken herself after a moment and slowly faced him again, a little sheepish, "Sorry. That felt weird. Like I was going to sneeze."

Klaus hadn't been able to hide a smile, "It's fine. It'll be a slow process so I imagine you'll get used to it."

She'd nodded, closed her eyes, and turned her face up slightly to signal she was ready again. "I'm totally realizing that the not talking part is going to be the hardest."

He'd made a sympathetic noise. The paint tightened when it dried and moving increased the possibility it would crack overly much and not photograph well. They'd done a few trial runs of limited parts of her body to allow her to get a feel for it. Caroline had assured him that she could handle it but had requested he capture the photos as quickly as possible once the painting was complete.

There'd been so much talk of her comfort that Klaus hadn't thought to consider his.

He was painfully turned on, had been since he'd helped her position her arms and focused his attention of her breasts, the way she was trying to hold back the urge to twitch as he stroked paint over her peaked nipples and the shallow little pants that she occasionally emitted.

He gritted his teeth and pushed on, telling himself that Caroline was doing him a _favor_ , and that running his work by pulling her to the ground would be highly inconvenient for her. He'd pulled a chair over as he set to work on her stomach and hips, telling himself to think of her skin like it was just another boring blank canvas.

Canvases didn't react, though. They weren't soft and lovely and responsive, reacting with faint quivers and tightening under his touch. She'd shaken with near silent laughter as he'd painted over her sensitive sides, barely managing to hold the position. She's calmed as he worked on her abdomen but she lets out a tiny moan as he trails paint over her pubic bone, the muscles in her thighs shaking slightly. "Sorry," she breathes out, and Klaus allows himself to look up at her. "Sorry, this is…" she fumbles for words, eyes huge and hazy looking.

It's a look he knows very well, one he craves and works _very_ hard to put on her face. The brush clatters to the floor unnoticed. Klaus licks his lips, keeps his question very even, doesn't want her to feel like she _has_ to say no, "Would you mind terribly if we called this a trial run?"

She shakes her head and moves in quick jerky movements, shoving him back into the chair and straddling his lap. Klaus wipes his hand on his jeans, glad that according to Caroline's very thorough research the paint is completely body safe. She grinds against him, her hands gripping the back of the chair for leverage, her movements near desperate. Klaus slips his hand between her thighs, groans as he finds her hot and _soaked_. Her head falls back as he pushes two fingers inside of her, thumb finding her clit as he curls them. He's learned just how she likes to be touched and she rocks against his hand, quick frantic jerks of her hips that tell him this won't take long.

Had he known the process was leaving her this worked up he never would have lasted so long.

He slides his free hand up her body, uncaring as the paint smears, filling his palm with her breast and wishing he could use his mouth.

She shatters with a short cry, pulsing around his fingers and falling forward to bury her face in his neck. Her ragged exhales fanning against his skin have him greedy for more. "Again," Klaus grits out, standing and lifting her with him. Caroline's still a little dazed, pliant and sated in his arms, and doesn't complain when he switches their positions. She idly runs her hand through his hair when he lifts her thigh over his shoulder and bends to flick his tongue over her clit. She jerks once and Klaus softens the touch, licking over her in slow passes until the faint taste of the paint is gone and she's moving up against his mouth, her own hand cupping her breast as she tugs at his hair and pleads with him to let her come.

Klaus watches her with something like awe, ignoring his cock straining at the zipper of his jeans. She's covered in smeared paint, her hair half pulled down around her face, eyes closed and mouth slack as she gasps, chasing a release that he knows will only make her more beautiful.

Contrary to what Caroline had assumed he's never wanted her more.

* * *

She snags two flutes of champagne, takes a swig of hers as she saunters over to Klaus. Holds in the grimace because it's really kind of terrible.

Oh well. She had something better stashed back at Klaus' for their private post-show party. He spots her approaching and smiles, saying a few final words to Professor LaRue before he makes his way over to her. He brushes a kiss over her cheek as he takes the champagne. His eyes flit over her with warm appreciation, and she fights an answering smirk of her own when she remembers of how his jaw had dropped when she'd first walked out of the dressing room with this particular dress on. "How did your interview go?" he murmurs.

She beams but tries for modesty. This crowd, somber and serious and dressed in black, so wouldn't appreciate her happy dance. She'll treat Klaus to a play by play of just how hard she'd rocked it later. "Pretty good. I'm betting they make an offer."

One that would take her to the same city Klaus was headed to, something they both really wanted post-graduation.

He appears pleased, "I had few doubts but congratulations, love." She graciously decided to ignore the teeny I told you so. She _had_ kept him up last night with her tossing and turning and he also had a big day today. Just this once she'd let it slide. Caroline glances around the room, notes that most people seem engrossed in the carefully lit photos stationed throughout the room, "How's it going here?"

He takes a moment to consider, "Fairly well, I think. People have been complimentary. Curious about my muse," he teases, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You muse or your muse's rack?" Caroline asks knowingly.

Klaus' lips press together and he strives for seriousness, "Both, I'd imagine. Though they're polite enough not to comment over much on your assets."

Caroline takes another look around, eyes sweeping the faces of those nearby with more interest, "What's polite got to do with it? My boobs are fantastic and should totally be admired, thank you very much."

He makes a low noise of amusement but swallows it before it can become a full laugh. "I'd be happy to admire them to your heart's content when we get home."

Caroline's going to hold him to that.


End file.
